


Do you text your mother with that mouth!?

by alejacdlm



Category: La Casa de las Flores | The House of Flowers (TV)
Genre: #because she's dead, F/F, Spoilers for season 2 and kind of the Funeral if we haven't all already seen them, Virginia is mentioned but not actually in the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alejacdlm/pseuds/alejacdlm
Summary: Family fluff and how Bruno picked up all that Spanish slang (and by all I mean like the three words and accent he used).The Riquelme de la Mora gang are beautiful people, ya'll, I'm so glad season 2 put more of this family relationship in.
Relationships: Paulina de la Mora/María José Riquelme
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Do you text your mother with that mouth!?

Bruno walks back from tennis practice on a surprisingly hot Tuesday. It’s not that Spain isn’t hot, he just always expects it to be so much colder than Mexico after that one Christmas visit they made shortly after his parents separated and his dad still looked like… well, his dad. If he got used to that change, he’s sure he’ll catch up to the temperature, too.

He’s not sure he’ll get used to the clay courts, though, which is all that Madrileños seem to play on.

After weaving his way through the gay village (so much rich history, Brunito, you know Almodóvar lived just down the road!), he playfully bats a neighbour’s wallet back to him – he’s made friends already, though most of the people in the neighbourhood are in their 20s, and it’s kind of joke that they throw things for him to hit with his tennis racquet after he accidentally saved a book from hitting the road one time. The Spanish are also much friendlier than he expected. Well, except his aunt. Purificación kind of creeps him out.

With María José actually at work a lot now, Bruno spends a lot of time with his aunt and her parrot. Probably more with the parrot. So he climbs up the stairs at the back of the street to reach their second floor apartment, which isn’t really big enough for them.

Predictably, Purificación opens the door just as Bruno is about to slot his key in. He’s sure he could not even bother to get the key from his pocket, with how accurate her timing always is.

“Hola, tía” he calls, dutifully wedging off his shoes before taking his tennis kit to his bedroom.

“Tía?” Puri calls to him, “Am I your little friend now, Bruno?” She asks as he is about to enter his bedroom, turning back to face her as she continues to talk – but to the parrot, mimicking his Mexican accent, “cómo estás, tía?, dónde estaban a mis pápas, tía? Quíeres que vamos a la pastelería, amiga mío, tía?” She then turns to him: “You’re funny, Bruno.”

Seeing the woman go back to feeding her bird, not knowing if she’s batshit or just using humour he doesn’t understand, he finally goes into his bedroom. But he still has questions so, as he’s helping her cook dinner, he asks, “oye, Purificación, why did you find it so funny when I called you tía?”

Just as she’s returning from sneaking (not so subtly) some of the uncooked chicken to the parrot, she answers. “Ay, see, Bruno, we are in Spain, and here, you know how in Mexico you say ‘cabrón’ or ‘hombre’ sometimes for friends? Over here, that’s how we use ‘tío’ and ‘tía’.”

And poor impressionable Bruno, who had just started picking up annoying slang from Moïses back in Mexico City, immediately starts throwing the word around when he greets the neighbours. 

(He also tried it once with the old man who runs the refreshment stand at his tennis club, but was quickly pulled aside by his coach who said that, being foreign, he’s forgiven, but nobody should ever call el viejo by anything but ‘Señor’ or his name.)

It’s only when Bruno is fielding calls and WhatsApps from some other kids at the club about being doubles partners to speak to his mother back in Mexico by text does he slip up again – in his defence, Purificación (who insisted he keep his bedroom door open 24/7) was also nattering on again to that damn bird. And that’s also why it’s only several hours later does he actually notice his mistake.

As María José returns home from a long Friday at work, she feels worn down. Not only are the litigation cases hard to fight (not for the first time she questions her specialty), but she finally built up the motivation to return Paulina’s call from a few days earlier, to hear that her beloved mother had died, alone, in Texas of all places. Paulina was a nervous wreck until María José had started trying to soothe her with pet names, and she began to burst out laughing.

Thankfully, María José’s concerns that Paulina may be off the Tafil (if it’s an addiction that works…) are assuaged when she begins the next sentence “Do you know what’s funny, dear?” and continues to explain how Bruno, presumably distracted, texted her in a distinctly un-Bruno-like tone and called her “tía” three times in one sentence.

“Has our little boy really become a teenager now?” She asked, sounding wistful, the purpose of the conversation forgotten. María José, glad that her calming technique had worked, even if not as intended, looked out of her office window in the direction of her apartment, imagining in her head that she was in the same city as her ex-wife and that they’d see each other when she got home, joke about it with Bruno together. It’s only daydreaming of this that let reality come crashing back – Virginia died and Paulina is distraught.

“When is the funeral?” María José had asked, “Bruno and I will definitely be there. He loved his grandma and I – “ she stopped herself before she can repeat the sentiment “ – want to be there at least to support you. Virginia was so kind to me when I was in Mexico the last time.”

Reality returned for Paulina at that moment, too, of course. There was a reason for the only phone call they’d had in weeks. “I’ll add you to the family WhatsApp,” she says, then, “Thank you, María José. I think I’ve missed your voice. And Bruno.”

“I know what you mean,” is all María José could think to say without sounding too soppy, trying not to think about this obviously guilty millionaire she’s trying to protect, “it will be lovely to see you, even in sad circumstances.”

With one final sniffle and no more words, Paulina hung up.

And this is why María José let out a cackle not dissimilar to her former partner’s when she tries to de-stress her own back after putting her handbag down on a stool in the kitchen and Bruno comes in, excitedly spinning a voice message into his phone with some half-Spanish accent, throwing the word “tío” in every five words. The edge to his voice is a bit funny itself – though María José is just glad he’s not too homesick and seems to be enjoying Madrid – but hearing for herself exactly what Paulina had described, and what had made her briefly forget her grief, throws María José over the edge. She has to lean over the counter to collect herself.

“I don’t know where you’re getting that Madrileño accent, Brunito – Puri and I are from Sevilla, you could at least imitate Antonio Banderas.” She jokes as he barely looks up from his phone, retrieving a drink from the fridge and going back to his bedroom, still chatting, but leaving her chuckling at the memory of her own joke until dinner that night, when she has to tell him the news from Mexico.

**Author's Note:**

> The Spanish Purificación mutters to the parrot, because it wouldn't work as well in English, translates to: "How are you, aunt/bud? Where were my parents, aunt/bud? Do you want to go to the patisserie with me, my friend, aunt/bud?"


End file.
